Chapter five: Martin's child
Noonvale was a happy place in spring, the birds sang, and the flowers bloomed. And Martin waited.
Aryah was in the tent with Rose, and Martin would be a father any minute. He couldn't wait to hold his newborn son. Luke! He would name his son Luke, to keep the tradition. He would teach baby Luke the ways of a warrior, and someday Luke would have a son of his own, named Martin.
He was brought back to the present when he heard cries of delight coming from inside the tent. Aryah came walking out, a bundle in her arms and her face wreathed in smiles. "Meet your new daughter, Martin!"
Martin was sitting in the tent with Rose and Aryah, astonishent on his face as he looked into his daughter's face cradled in his arms.
"It's a maid, you were right, Rose..."
Rose was in good spirits, and sat up in her bed and smiled. "I told you it would be. Our new daughter."
Martin looked from the bundle in his arms to Rose, still stunned. "But...but what will we name her? We can't name her Luke."
"Silly, of course not. I'm naming her Chrysanthemum."
"Krisanthawhat?"
Rose stifled a giggle. "Chrysanthemum, because I'm named after a flower, the laterose, so our daughter can be named after a flower too!"
Martin looked back to the tiny mousemaid in his arms, a little smile on his face. "That's a mouthful. 'No no, Krisanthamum, hold the sword in this position.'"
Rose suddenly became serious. "No, Martin, don't teach her about fighting. Please don't."
Martin looked surprised at Rose. "But Rose, she's the daughter of a warrior, she's got to learn how to fight!"
Aryah shook her head. "I'm sorry, Martin, but not in Noonvale. You know this is a place of peace, and your Chrysanthemum may stay here all her life. And what does a maid need of a sword?"
Martin was still surprised he was a father of a maid, and stared at his daughter. "I suppose you're right, Aryah, and you too, Rose. I won't teach her how to fight." This he said with some diffuculty, then gently, he placed her on a mat to sleep, and left the tent.
Unknown to Rose, Martin, or Aryah, Martin's sword had been left by the straw mat where Chrysanthemum had been laid. She was asleep, but slowly, her tiny paw moved up... and very slowly, closed on the hilt of the sword. She gripped the sword tightly, as if she was used to holding it. To anybeast who happened to be watching, they could be sure that if this daughter of a warrior could lift the sword, she would use it properly, swiftly, quickly, and dangerously. Woe to the foe who dares to challenge Chrysanthemum the daughter of Martin the Warrior!
Noonvale was a happy place in spring, the birds sang, and the flowers bloomed. And Martin waited.
Aryah was in the tent with Rose, and Martin would be a father any minute. He couldn't wait to hold his newborn son. Luke! He would name his son Luke, to keep the tradition. He would teach baby Luke the ways of a warrior, and someday Luke would have a son of his own, named Martin.
He was brought back to the present when he heard cries of delight coming from inside the tent. Aryah came walking out, a bundle in her arms and her face wreathed in smiles. "Meet your new daughter, Martin!"
Martin was sitting in the tent with Rose and Aryah, astonishent on his face as he looked into his daughter's face cradled in his arms.
"It's a maid, you were right, Rose..."
Rose was in good spirits, and sat up in her bed and smiled. "I told you it would be. Our new daughter."
Martin looked from the bundle in his arms to Rose, still stunned. "But...but what will we name her? We can't name her Luke."
"Silly, of course not. I'm naming her Chrysanthemum."
"Krisanthawhat?"
Rose stifled a giggle. "Chrysanthemum, because I'm named after a flower, the laterose, so our daughter can be named after a flower too!"
Martin looked back to the tiny mousemaid in his arms, a little smile on his face. "That's a mouthful. 'No no, Krisanthamum, hold the sword in this position.'"
Rose suddenly became serious. "No, Martin, don't teach her about fighting. Please don't."
Martin looked surprised at Rose. "But Rose, she's the daughter of a warrior, she's got to learn how to fight!"
Aryah shook her head. "I'm sorry, Martin, but not in Noonvale. You know this is a place of peace, and your Chrysanthemum may stay here all her life. And what does a maid need of a sword?"
Martin was still surprised he was a father of a maid, and stared at his daughter. "I suppose you're right, Aryah, and you too, Rose. I won't teach her how to fight." This he said with some diffuculty, then gently, he placed her on a mat to sleep, and left the tent.
Unknown to Rose, Martin, or Aryah, Martin's sword had been left by the straw mat where Chrysanthemum had been laid. She was asleep, but slowly, her tiny paw moved up... and very slowly, closed on the hilt of the sword. She gripped the sword tightly, as if she was used to holding it. To anybeast who happened to be watching, they could be sure that if this daughter of a warrior could lift the sword, she would use it properly, swiftly, quickly, and dangerously. Woe to the foe who dares to challenge Chrysanthemum the daughter of Martin the Warrior!